Before They Hatch
by theAkuRokuFaNaTiC
Summary: Before Spirit was the Death Scythe, before Kami became the missing mother in Maka's life, before Stein was dubbed "The Nutty Professor", and before Marie engaged in a relationship with the toilet - they were just promising students at the DWMA. SpiritXKami and hints of SteinXMarie.
1. Meetings

_First impressions are always important. _

"Good morning! Wazzup! How _you _doing? Greetings to all new and returning students!"

The quirky voice of Shinigami-sama was loud enough to be heard through the entire campus. Of course, only foolish students would be wandering the school when the Lord of Death himself was talking. He was, interestingly, not what most expected. He was very tall, no surprise, but he also had a very high-pitched voice and a strange cloak that swept out in too many ways to count. And that mask...yet his power was legendary. No one would dare to quarrel with Death, unless they wanted to join his affiliation. Meaning, "_death wish_."

Because, you know, Lord Death and a "death wish." They're kind of the same thing, right? Right?

It's a humorous pun if you let it be.

Such was the joke telling of one Spirit Albarn. No student (boy or girl) seemed to quite get the hilarity that the redhead's little punch lines held. And they _were_ really funny.

The only guy that laughed at Spirit's jokes also found the suffering and torment of others delightfully fun. In other words, humor was totally lost on the population of the DWMA.

Unfortunately, that guy that just so happened to be psychotic also happened to be Spirit's Partner, the infamous Franken Stein. Said Stein was standing beside the redhead, the two of them listening intently to Shinigami-sama's words of encouragement.

"I want you all to section off into four groups, okey-dokey? Those who are Meisters and those who are Weapons. Then, the Weapons who already have a Meister, and the Meisters who already have a Weapon. Is this al'ight?" Shinigami-sama asked; he used his large foam fingers to point to four different corners in a moderately close, square area. "We want everyone to know who is Partnered and who has yet to be Partnered." The Lord of Death gave his assembly of students a few seconds to glance around the entirety of their peers. Spirit indulged in this moment, as he did last year.

The difference between last year and this year was simple. Last year, Spirit was a bright-eyed Freshman who had no clue what he was doing. He had no Partner, no clue what he was doing, and he could hardly keep his temper in check long enough to stop from transforming into a blade whenever he got an itsy bit mad.

Spirit looked over to see Sid, a returning Sophomore like Spirit and Stein, and his Partner Mira (also a Sophomore), watching with all their attention turned to Shinigami-sama. Over the summer, Sid had cut his hair into a buzz-cut, yet it already looked to be gaining back length with ferocity. Mira stood beside her Meister, gaze focused, much more serious-looking than Sid. His gaze would wander, and he'd start to scratch the back of his neck nervously whenever her eyes shot up to him.

Once they had finished their look-and-learn session, the students gave a collective agreement, and the crowd started to disperse. Stein smirked in Spirit's direction before walking off in the direction of the taken Meisters, and Spirit would've also went in his designated direction, had it not been for the sight of four very cute girls. Strangely enough, when he approached them, they all gave him a curt one-over and high-tailed it to their un-Meistered Weapon corner. And that just left the redhead, alone, and very discouraged. Not to mention upset.

"It's Stein. He's ruining my game, that's it…" Spirit muttered, defeated, but still trying to keep some semblance of his dignity. It was then that he realized that there was no way that he was going to pick up any girls, cute or not; not with Stein around, anyway. So he began walking, and did _that _feel like the most mortifying experience of all time. Dozens and scores of eyes were watching the Weapon, and the Weapon tried not to notice those (stupid) students noticing. And so he walked. Ignoring the tall redhead with a large bust, the strawberry blonde with golden eyes, and the curvaceous pinkette that seemed to be eyeing Spirit like a piece of candy, Spirit trudged on to his designated spot. He hated being taken by a Meister already, because this year's group of Freshman seemed to have a lot more women that just happened to be Meister's.

But no sensible girl (or a man, really) wanted a Scythe as a partner. They'd want something like a katana, or a dagger, or something other than a Scythe.

Especially not an overly-large Scythe with an ego that rivaled Stein's insatiable curiosity of the fragility of life. Meaning, Spirit was the average hot-headed Weapon. But not even a good Weapon; no, he just had to be a Scythe.

Spirit continued with his slow pace, hands jabbed in his pockets, melancholy as can be. He may have even gone at the leisurely turtle speed all the way to his already-taken Weapon, had it not been for a shock of pale yellow knocking into him.

The Weapon stayed on his feet, because the yellow fuzz only came up to his chest. He might've even kept walking if he hadn't heard a telltale "oomph."

"Sorry," the redhead muttered under his breath. On the ground (as graced by Death himself), was a petite blonde, clad in the DWMA uniform that seemed a little large for her frame. She had her teeth gritted together in obvious discomfort, yet the rest of her body stayed composed.

Spirit didn't mean to (he really did), but when he looked at her satisfactory chest, he happened to notice "Meister" printed on the name tag, right where her heart's located.

"No, really, I'm sorry; need a hand?" Spirit asked, extending a hand. It was hard to tell whether she would accept the offered help or kick him in the balls (both had happened, numerous times before), but Spirit felt wrong just leaving her on the ground.

The blonde reached out her hand as well, with thin little fingers that fit so well into Spirit's. It was odd, not like any other sort of hand-holding Spirit had ever done before. This girl didn't have long fingernails that dug into his flesh (they were short and looked to have been choppily cut), she didn't have hands that had met their match with too much moisturizer (rough, but in a strong way), and she certainly didn't have perfectly-painted nails (they were a berry red that had chipped in many places).

And when she looked up, when forest green orbs met Spirit's teal ones, his heart may or may not have skipped a beat. It was like she saw everything through one look; her eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly, her jaw tightening.

But his heart did _not _skip a beat; in fact, Spirit was pretty sure that _she _was the one impressed.

"Going to help me up?" she asked cooly.

Okay, not so impressed.

From the way she talked, it was likely that she had an accent from somewhere Asian, though Spirit wasn't ready to place any bets.

Speaking of which, Spirit began to remind himself to quickly gain the feeling back in his legs so that he may help this poor damsel up. The gravity in his legs still felt absent, but Spirit pulled her up despite that. She was lighter than expected, almost nonexistent compared to Spirit (even if most of his reasonable and completely normal weight came from defined muscle). By the time she was on her feet, the blonde's hand left Spirit's.

"Are you alright?" Spirit asked, genuinely concerned for the girl's well-being. Sure, she seemed sturdy enough, but she really was just a little thing.

The blonde nodded, a surprised expression on her face. Maybe she noticed Spirit's checking out of her breasts (he approved, by the way) and was genuinely shocked by his kindhearted question. He did have that effect on women, after all. But when she puffed her cheek out with a frown plastered on her face, Spirit was pretty sure she missed the sympathetic tone to his voice.

Truth be told, the girl's face was kind of adorable.

Quick, make a conversation; otherwise, she'll walk away.

"So, Meister, huh?"

Her face changed expressions once more. This time, it was a pleased one. "Yes, I am. And you're a Weapon. But you already have a partner."

Of course. Everyone always knew about Stein. He just had to be a Meister prodigy on top of already being a genius. How quaint, adorable, super.

"Yeah, Stein…so, are you taken yet?"

The blonde shook her head. "I'm only a Freshman, but I do have high hopes for myself," she said, very much proud of herself.

It was now or never. Try to introduce yourself. "I'm S-"

"Spirit Albarn. You and Franken Stein are famous. Rumor is he can get you to be a Death Scythe this year."

This was true. Spirit already had 87 Souls under his belt (or, rather, in his stomach), and Stein was nowhere near slowing down. And the sooner he got to be a Death Scythe, the sooner Spirit could get away from Stein. And the sooner he could get a sweet little thing on his arm. And maybe another.

"Yeah, you know how rumors are. So, does a pretty girl like you have a name?" Spirit asked, feeling quite silly under the glare of the small blonde. Her eyes were daring, a most frightening thing, indeed. In fact, now that he got an even better look at her strong gaze, Spirit decided that he feared this girl much more than he feared even Stein.

But in a completely different way.

While Spirit feared Stein and his lack of barriers and frightening words, the redhead feared the much smaller blonde because of…he wasn't quite sure why. But it was different, in a much better way.

"Kami," the girl said, breaking Spirit from his thoughts. The Weapon turned his gaze upward to see her standing with her hand placed on her hip. "That's my name. Kami Tsutano."

"Is that Chinese?"

Kami's upper lip twitched before her face quickly got near Spirit's chest (because that's as high as she reached, Spirit noticed). "B-b-baka! How dare you! I don't even know how to react!"

"Pretty badly, apparently. Hey, are you Chinese?"

"Do you have a learning disability? Or an aneurysm? We're you dropped as a baby, because I'm not Chinese!"

"South Korean?"

"No!"

"Vietnamese? Say, Grandpa Albarn served in Vietnam," Spirit said sweetly, making sure to pronounce the last part of Vietnam in a way that rhymed with lamb. Or Pam. Or spam.

"Iie! I-ei!"

Kami was accenting herself very clearly. It was clear that she had spent a very long time studying English, and would only lapse into her native tongue (whatever language it may be) whenever truly mad.

"North Korean?"

The blonde girl stopped to furrow her brow in confusion. "You already said South Korean..."

"And?"

"They both speak Korean!"

"Huh. That's weird. Okay, how about Thai?"

The two were officially in a stare-off. Kami's irritated expression melted into a much more calm one (or so it appears for the moment), while Spirit tried very hard not to start smiling in amusement.

"No."

"Taiwanese?"

"No."

"Indian?"

"Do I look Indian to you?"

"You're right, too pale. Hmmm…"

Kami's cool demeanor had lasted officially forty seconds before her lip twitched again. "You are an idiot. Has no one told you? Because you are. I'm Japanese. _Japanese_. Not Chinese, or North Korean, or South Korean, or Vietnamese, or Thai, or Taiwanese, or Indian, or Cambodian, or Malaysian, or Russian, or American. Or anything but Japanese."

Riling her up was about the best thing to do, Spirit decided.

She cut herself off after that, taking a few deep breaths and turning around. To her horror (and Spirit's, though not nearly as terrible as Kami's), all the students were already in their proper places, leaving just those two in the middle of the clearing.

Even Shinigami-sama, under that mask, must've been amused.

Kami's pretty face turned a shade nearly as red as Spirit's hair, and she started to babble unintellagably. Smiling, Spirit began to lead her to the right corner that a Meister like her should be in. When he finally did deposit her, he sauntered away to the already-partnered Weapon corner, ignoring the pointed stares of the other students. Some of them whispered, some of them laughed, and some of them just watched with wide-open mouths.

"Now that everyone's settled," Shinigami-sama began, his voice surprisingly steady despite the humorous conversation that had just occurred, "I'd like to thank every student for coming to the DWMA this year! I can already tell that it's gonna be a great year. Now, how's about a fun meet-and-greet for everyone?"

Before the lord of Death turned away from his spot in the front of the school, he added, "But, of course, we may know some more than others already. Keep this in mind; you may need more friends on your side than you think. Welp, I'm off to do some super cool work! Have fun!"

Shinigami-sama did turn away this time. A few seconds passed before the students standing around began to converse among each other. Spirit noticed Stein out of the corner of his eye and smirked.

"Saw me laying on the moves on that girl, did ya?" the redhead asked. His friend didn't seem nearly as impressed, only raising an eyebrow and smiling his slightly-frightening half-smile.

"I saw a girl who looked particularly murderous, if that's what you're referring to."

"It's not."

Spirit's deadpan response was enough to make his Meister chuckle. "If you honestly think that she's going to start following you around like a lovesick puppy, then you surely _have_ been dropped on your head."

The Scythe considered his friend's words for a few moments, all the while his mind going back to that meeting with the girl and her blonde hair and observant forest green eyes.

"I've gotta see her again."

"And I've been ignored," Stein commented dryly, all the while knowing that he'd been ignored.

At the silver-haired teen's words, Spirit perked up again. "No, you don't understand! I've gotta see her again."

"And so it begins." Stein stood very still, until a finger poked his shoulder; he turned quickly to meet with a strawberry blonde with bright, golden eyes. She, ironically, was the same girl that Spirit had purposely ignored but a few minutes ago. Smiling sweetly, she extended a hand.

"I'm Marie Mjölnir, un-Meistered, as of now. Oh! But you already have a Partner, don't you?" she asked, sending a terrifying glare in Spirit's general direction. Which meant, of course, that her gaze focused completely on him. And if the strange feeling of the temperature dropping meant anything, then she was certainly a force to be reckoned with.

Stein stared at the hand for a minute more, before taking it and shaking. "Franken Stein. Pleasure."

"Frankenstein? Like the monster?"

"No, like me."

That was odd, on both parts. Normally, Stein would also go on a minute-long rant about how Frankenstein wasn't _even _the monster. Frankenstein was the scientist; the monster was Frankenstein's monster. And also normally, the girl that he would tell this to would just give him that confused expression and walk away, mumbling something about, "Freak."

This Marie girl, she only giggled and nodded. "I haven't read the book; is it any good?"

"Quite. You can borrow it, if you want," Stein answered with a surprised expression. He let go of her hand and turned to Spirit. "This is my Partner, Spirit. He's a Scythe."

The word "Scythe" seemed to be a trigger word of depression for Marie. "A Scythe, huh? Why couldn't I have been born a Scythe? No, poor Marie had to be a stupid Hammer."

"A _Hammer_?" Spirit and Stein repeated at the same time. Who would've guessed that such a little thing like her could possibly be a Hammer?

Marie nodded dejectedly. "Yeah, I know. What kind of Meister wants a Hammer? They're small and bulky and stupid. Just stupid."

"That is unfortunate," Franken mumbled. "Well, I do hope that you find a Meister sooner or later." With that, not even bothering to say goodbye to Marie (or Spirit, for that matter), Stein sauntered away back to the Meisters-Who-Already-Had-A-Partner corner. Or, rather, the MWAHAP corner.

"Mwahap," Spirit laughed. He chose to ignore Marie's strange look; and rudely enough, when he ignored her, she walked away (also in Stein's direction - wrong way, Marie).

_#SpiritAlbarn_

That night, when Spirit was holed up in his bed, he held his journal in his hands. No, it was not a diary, but that also didn't mean that he wanted it to be read. _That _was a total invasion of privacy.

Besides, his roommate Jefferson was already asleep, if the snoring head of brown hair meant anything. And when Spirit was alone, he chose to write in his super-secret journal.

_Dear Journal,_

_Started another year of school. Not exactly a simple day. _

_I met a girl, and not just any girl, she was _blonde_. And normally, I like my blondes, but this blonde was different. She was short and had green eyes, but they weren't green like Stein's eyes. They were forest-y, instead of olive-y. Anyway, I think she likes me, and I think I might like her. And you know something else? I think Stein officially has game._

**A.N.: First chapter! So, I want this story to be my master SpiritXKami fanfiction. Now, I know that her name is not officially Kami, but I just want to go with that, since it's the only semblance of a name we've been given. This story's going to be a doozy, I know, but it'll hopefully be a lot of fun! Also, at the end of every chapter, I'm going to have a short bit of a character thinking about the day (the part with the hashtag). If you want a hashtag and a character, feel free to say something. Reviews and critique (but nice ones, of course) are appreciated. Hope you enjoyed!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Soul Eater_, because Ohkubo-sensei is a literary and artistic genius.**


	2. Arguments

**A.N.: New chapter! Sorry it took a little over a week to update, but my sister was a tad late on the fanart... So yeah... This chapter is a ton longer, though, so I hope that that somewhat makes up for it! I am so thankful that I already have a review on this story. Also, I hate to say that there may still be grammar errors, but I've went over it a couple times.**_  
_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater!**

_If you dream about her, then she really is something._

And Spirit did, in fact, dream about Kami. The entire night, even when he did wake himself up to get a glass of water (and then again, two hours later, to go to the bathroom), his dreams kept centering back to her. That blonde hair andthat short stature. And those eyes. Especially those eyes.

He couldn't quite pinpoint why he was so impressed by them. Forest green is not an exceptionally spectacular color, not even on eyes; but it was the way she bore into his very Soul that both freaked him out and impressed him beyond words. She was observant like Stein, but not in the creepy, scientific way; it was in a natural sort of way that only intrigued the Weapon.

Checking his alarm clock (evil little thing that rang incessantly), Spirit blanched when he saw the time. He had twenty minutes to get dressed, which meant that he had to either skip fixing his hair or eating a piece of burnt-beyond-recognition toast. Eventually, he opted to comb out his unruly hair for ten minutes. Sprinting to his closet, Spirit chose his high-collared uniform and quickly did the buttons; surprisingly, he ran out of the room in record timing.

Not that Spirit cared to notice at the time, of course, but he missed a button, making his ensemble quite uneven. Still, the redhead was running to his first class, quite certain that he was going to be horribly, unforgivably late.

Some classes at the DWMA were mandatory for both Weapons and Meisters alike, such as the Weapon-Wielding class for Freshman (Spirit and Stein had gotten very high marks for that particular class) and the double-period Training sessions. There were also the classes for just Meisters (Immediate First Aid, Reaction Classes, and Singled Survival) and also the ones for Weapons (Being Your Own Meister, Immediate First Aid, and Reflexes). They also had their schooling classes and occasional study halls.

Quickly turning a corner (and nearly skidding to a halt into a hard-looking wall), Spirit ran into the classroom, meeting the tired faces of his peers. First period of the day was a study hall for sophomores, and Spirit sat himself beside Stein. The silver-haired teen looked up, seeming to be not tired at all, and returned to his book. It was an older copy of _Frankenstein_, and he was already three-fourths of the way done with it. "When did you even start that?" Spirit asked.

"Last night. I've been going at a seemingly-slow pace. Marie asked if she could borrow it some time; I wanted to make sure that I haven't overlooked anything before I give it to her. I have a feeling that I won't be able to have it back for a while."

Subtle. Nodding, Spirit placed his arms on top of the table surface and buried his head in them. With his head down, Spirit could make out the quiet sounds of  
girls whispering between themselves, boys throwing wads of paper (and laughing about it) at each other, and Stein's incessant flipping of pages. The redhead closed his teal eyes and drifted back into a light sleep.

Of course. There she was again. Kami, standing in a dark room, with her eyes trained to the floor, so that Spirit could only make out a sliver of forest green. The blonde's eyes drifted towards where Spirit assumed he was standing; her lips curled up into a light smile, and her shoulders started shaking in soft laughter.

"You look funny," she muttered, her voice soft and airy. "Why do you look so confused?"

He might have been able to answer her, had Spirit been able to see her face. "Ah, that is-"

_"But you don't know anything, do you?"_

Gasping, Spirit's head shot up from his desk; he took a wary glance around the room to see Stein finished with _Frankenstein_. The book was neatly placed to the  
Meister's left, and the white-haired teen was now reading a completely different book. The Weapon's Anatomy. And that certainly wasn't unsettling, or anything. Spirit turned his head to the front of the room and sighed. He placed his arms back onto the table and rested his chin on them. Trying not to notice Stein's eyes on him (though it was rather hard), the redhead closed his eyes again.

"Nightmare?" Stein's level voice asked. Startled, Spirit shot his Meister a glare. "They say that the more souls you collect, the more a Weapon has nightmares. I'm truthfully surprised that you've managed to hold them off for so long. Interesting..."

Always be afraid when Stein's interested. Always. Spirit nodded wordlessly and glanced at the clean chalkboard ahead of him. The teacher was sitting at his desk, dozing lightly, trusting the students not to cause too many problems. This school was made for sharp, pointy Weapons, after all.

"Or are you perhaps thinking about other things?" the white-haired teen prodded, a frightening smile on his face. "Other things, like-"

"'M not," Spirit answered; he pretended to make his voice thick with sleep, just to get his Partner off his back.

"I see."

"I bet you do."

When Stein only hummed in acknowledgment, Spirit grimaced and looked down at the table. He contemplated knocking his head against it multiple times but  
ultimately decided against it; that would only amuse Stein.

Sometimes, that guy acted like he knew everything. And yeah, he was smart, but he was such an idiot when it came to things. On the other hand, he was pretty good at picking up cute blondes, like Marie. She was practically following the guy around campus the day before, and-

And if Spirit wasn't imagining things (and he never really did let his imagination get the better of him), there was a pair of golden eyes peering into the classroom door's window. The redhead watched with a perplexed expression as the top of the head belonging to the eyes stretched a little farther to get a good look inside the room. Already, the redhead could see the curly-haired blonde on her tip-toes just to try to see inside the window.

"Hey, Stein," Spirit whispered, hardly moving his mouth; he noticed Marie's eyes narrow in on the Weapon and Meister duo, "I think your admirer's back."

Wordlessly, Stein lifted his head, raising just one eyebrow. As quick as he lifted his head, he put it back down and lifted his copy of Frankenstein. As always, Stein ignored the odd looks his fellow students gave him, continuing on with his strange pace of living.

The golden eyes widened, then vanished completely from view. Spirit chuckled into his mouth, stifling the sound. Looking back over to his Partner, he saw that Stein's attention was no longer focused on anything but his anatomy book. Really, Spirit should warn Marie that gaining Stein's interest was certainly a hard task by itself, not to mention keeping it.

Spirit smirked. "Maybe you two should start a book club."

"Do you think that she'd join?" Stein replied without lifting his eyes from his book.

This time, Spirit did hit his head against the tabletop. And as expected, Stein smirked. "You know, I think I have a bruise cream that would be perfect for you,  
Spirit."

"No, thanks."

The rest of the class went silently, with Stein reading his book and Spirit nursing his bruised forehead. A Weapon's strength was often underestimated, but it really did take a lot to be able to block every attack that an enemy sent at your Meister.

When the bell rang, Stein was the first to get up, books nestled under his arm. "First Aid. Come on."

Immediate First Aid, huh? Spirit was particularly terrible at this class, even if his Scythe form made a great knife for cutting gauze. His fingers got shaky under pressure, and his already-long fingers just became clumsy. Needless to say, if Stein were ever injured, he'd have a better chance of administering first aid to himself. And no part of Spirit doubted that the Meister really could perform his own first aid.

The great (and terrible) thing about Stein was his tolerance to pain. It had kept them in a ton of fights that normal Meisters would've already succumbed to, but it also meant that Stein underestimated his injuries and would overwork his already-hurt body.

And despite his size, Stein wasn't exactly a featherweight.

The two walked to class without talking, but not distant. Sure, Stein scared Spirit to no end, but he was also a reliable Partner that pretty much guaranteed the redhead a Death Scythe status. This prompted the Weapon to be as nice as humanly possible to the frightening Stein.

The door to the room was open, and Spirit was the first to enter; he noticed Marie gazing intently at the doorway, jaw set in determination. When Stein walked through, she got up from her seat and walked up to him. She made eye contact and held out her hand.

"You said I could borrow your book. Can I?" she asked sweetly, voice akin to something pleasant, like springtime. Or honey. Eyes wide for only a moment (not  
even noticeable, if you didn't know Stein), the Meister reached under his arm and held out the weathered paperback. The blonde smiled widely. "Thanks! Can't  
wait to get started on it!"

Elbowing his Meister, Spirit chuckled softly. "Wow, someone knows how to lay the moves on the little honey, huh?" Spirit stopped chuckling when the white-haired teen half-glared. "Let's get a seat, shall we?"

Talking to Stein was like walking on eggshells. Difficult and painful and such a fragile process. One minute, Stein was in a fine and jovial mood; the next, you'd have thought that his favorite puppy was brutally murdered in front of him, or at least something like that. Perhaps not so brutal. Stein led the way to the middle section, sitting down a fair margin away from everyone else. Spirit sat down beside him, taking in the contents of the room. The class was shared between Freshman and Sophomores, and the upper classmen also shared their own First Aid class in a separate room.

Jefferson was sitting beside his partner, a thin and tanned black-haired boy with the longest arms and legs Spirit had ever seen. Spirit's roommate himself had short brown hair with deep amber eyes and a light scar running across his forehead from an accident when he was a child. The brunette was nice enough, a little strange at times, but most Weapons at the DWMA had some sort of social impediment. It came with the status of being a strong object that could kill people.

Meisters were just strange.

The Weapon continued surveying the room, noticing Sid and Mira already pulling out their notebooks and pens; and Spirit almost missed the head of blonde-beige hair in the exact middle of the front row. And when she turned, when Spirit caught sight of forest green in her profile, the redhead smiled his most dumb-looking smile. "Catch you later, Stein." With that, and without waiting for his Partner to respond, the Scythe bolted from his seat and practically ran to sit beside Kami.

"Missed me?" he asked cheekily, smiling despite the blonde's upset reaction. She puffed one cheek out and sighed heavily.

"I was counting the moments," she responded dryly. Turning to grab her schoolbag from the floor, Kami rummaged around in her bag for a large green book. She opened it loudly, smirking when a puff of dust caught Spirit's eye. The redhead winced lightly but said nothing. Deliberately, she flipped through the pages just to hit him with more dust.

Spirit coughed, trying to be somewhat dignified despite his watering eyes and dry throat. "You make me lose my breath."

"Kami...CHOP!" The blonde Meister slammed her book on top of Spirit's poor, unsuspecting head.

This was perhaps the first moment that Spirit could honestly say that he saw stars. Stars, and Kami, and her irritated expression. "You just never learn, do  
you?" she asked, sounding very apathetic, even though Spirit's head was throbbing. The redhead frowned and rubbed at his head.

"I see stars. Are you an alien? Because you are out of this world..."

That one did deserve a Kami Chop, whatever that was. It reminded Spirit of Shinigami-sama (perhaps Kami took pointers from him). When the Weapon's head  
finally did clear from tiny black dots and stars pervading his vision, he looked back at Kami. The blonde's face had an irritated expression with an embarrassed  
flush on it; honestly, Spirit didn't know that he could get such a reaction from her.

Score one for the boys back home.

"I still say that you have a learning disability," Kami muttered under her breath, turning her body towards the front of the room. "The bell is going to ring soon, and I'd rather not get in any trouble."

Choosing not to say, "I'd pay your bail any time," or better yet, "I'd go to jail if you're the warden," Spirit sighed and also turned to the teacher. She was a tall, defined Meister that had been through at least four Weapons. Now, she was only a teacher (because she couldn't manage a new Partner - they all turned tail and left), but her physical strength was unheard of. Her eyes were a piercing blue, her jaw defined and set; and frankly, she scared Spirit about as much as Stein did.

It didn't really help that Spirit had tried a pick-up line on her at the beginning of last year. Two chalkboard erasers to the mouth and a month's worth of detentions later, the Weapon had learned his lesson.

Miss (there was a reason she wasn't married) Petra Dietrich stood in the front of the room, book placed neatly on the podium. She held her piece of chalk like  
a dagger and had her hand on her podium like it was a stress ball (and she was a very stressed teacher, apparently). "Vat do you do ven your Partner is injured in a fight?" she asked, her German accent strong.

Kami's hand shot into the air, and Spirit resisted the urge to groan. Of course; she just had to be a genius. "You find a way to distract the enemy, then look  
for a secure hiding spot for both you and your Partner while you tend to injuries and call for help, ma'am."

And polite. She just had to be polite.

"Zat is wrong."

If Spirit wasn't confused, then Kami looked the part enough for both of them. The blonde's eyebrows were knit together, her lips parted in an unasked question.

"Vat you need to do ees vonder how you managed to get a terrible Partner like zat in ze first place. Zen vat you do is leave him as punishment. Mark eet  
down!"

Surprisingly, Kami's hand reached out for her notebook. She began to scribble down the shoddy response that Miss Dietrich gave them. A part of Spirit wanted  
to argue; the other part wanted to remember how he managed to forget his notebook in the first place.

Perhaps she wouldn't notice, perhaps she'd overlook him, perhaps-

"Meester Albarn? May I ask vare your notes are?"

Perhaps he'd managed to secure himself another detention? Then, that thing that happened whenever Spirit got nervous (hot feeling, the thought that his hair was way too long because it's itching his neck right now, sweating palms) predictably happened.

"Yeah, about those...weird stuff happens, you know?"

"Do you not have zem, zen?"

Petra looked away for a few seconds to glare at a pink-faced girl with a head full of orange ringlets; she, too, had forgone the essential notebook needed for  
Miss Dietrich's class.

Thinking quickly was never one of Spirit's greatest attributes; however, it did seem to be one of Kami's strongest. The beige-haired girl quickly passed a green  
notebook towards the Weapon's direction. Panicking, confused (perplexed, really), Spirit opened the notebook to see a handwritten note inside.

I'll let you borrow this one if you stop hitting on me. Deal?

Spirit nodded quickly, a bright smile plastered on his face. At his answer, Kami looked away, turning her eyes onto her own notebook. The Weapon continued his gaze on her for a few fleeting moments before glancing at Miss Dietrich. Her blue eyes bore into his teal ones while he held up the newly-acquired notebook. Pushing a stray piece of chestnut hair away from her forehead, Petra nodded and continued on to the front of the room.

"Zis is all zat you vill be doing to deesrupt my class?"

"Boy, I hope so," Spirit replied, face straight.

The sound of light, hesitant laughter echoed through the room before Petra shushed it away. Kami only had the faintest of smiles on her face that quickly disappeared a few seconds after Spirit noticed it.

"You owe me big time," she whispered out of the corner of her mouth, quiet enough that only Spirit could hear.

"I only regret that I have but one heart to give for you."

To her credit, Kami only sputtered silently; her shock was soft enough so that the teacher didn't catch it, but Spirit could see every feature of embarrassment  
written on her face.

"Quoting Nathan Hale, how quaint," she hissed back. Her green eyes were dangerous, despite the red blush on her face. Truth be told, she kind of  
reminded Spirit like a Christmas cookie. A pretty Christmas cookie with a blonde angel on it. Maybe she's a tasty cookie.

"What's your favorite type of frosting?" Spirit asked, gaining a very questionable look from Kami.

The blonde smacked his arm before pulling off the cap of her ballpoint pen. She was very quiet for a few minutes, writing down every thing that Miss Dietrich  
said, keeping her eyes trained to the front of the room, until she discreetly passed a neatly ripped out sheet of paper to him.

Pink.

"So, strawberry? Because that's what pink frosting is."

"Baka."

Whatever that word meant, Kami used it a lot, and it must've been an insult. "Hey, you know that you say that word a lot, right? Like, more than usual."

"It means 'idiot', idiot," the Meister replied curtly. "And I really don't know what game you're playing, but I have a class to pay attention to-"

"Mees Tsutano? Vould you care to tell vy you are talking een my class?" The frighteningly loud voice of Petra asked. And just like that, Kami's face turned  
an even more impressive shade of red than when Spirit had been teasing her. The blonde, with wide eyes, shook her head wordlessly. "You vould not care to tell me vy you are deesrupting my class?"

Stuttering out an apology, Kami ducked her head down. "I'm really sorry, ma'am."

Miss Dietrich nodded and turned back to her class. "Alright, zen, class. Ze homevork for tonight ees to read pages tvelve zroo fourteen. I vill see you all on Vednesday." With a loud, "Deesmeesed!" the bell rang as predicted, and Stein fled from the room before Spirit could even gather his books. The Weapon stared after his Partner with a confused expression, jumping when he felt a finger poke at his shoulder. Turning, Spirit gasped when he saw a blonde with red cheeks and green eyes swimming with tears.

Oh, no.

"I hope you're happy," Kami whispered; she scrubbed her face with her hand and hiccuped. "I try to help, and you know what happens? I get yelled out. I never want to speak to you again." With that, the blonde drew her arm back and punched Spirit's shoulder. Hard. By the time the searing pain had eased, Kami had already sauntered out of the room.

Oh, yeah. You messed up big time, buddy.

Spirit watched the door frame for a couple seconds longer before walking out as well. The feeling of guilt hung over him like Stein hung over a poor,  
unsuspecting victim. With feet feeling heavier than the iron his Scythe was made out of, Spirit trudged onward to his next class. Stein had Singled Survival,  
which meant that the Weapon had the Being Your Own Meister class. And the redhead's class also had its brand spankin' new teacher.

Yippee.

"I hate BYOM," the redhead muttered; if there were two things Spirit Albarn was good at, it was making abbreviations for obnoxiously long things (MWAHAP and BYOM, in particular) and making a complete and total jerk of himself.

Upon entering the BYOM classroom, Spirit closed the door and caught sight of Mira. The dark-skinned girl smiled brightly, her blue eyes mischievous as she strode past Spirit and placed a chalkboard eraser in the space between the door and the frame. A simple prank, of course, but always a reliable one for the first day of classes. And Mira, innocent-looking Mira, was the one who always performed such pranks. Perhaps, however, it was her innocent look that she could turn on like a light switch that managed to get her out of trouble. Spirit nodded in acknowledgment and sat down towards the front of the classroom. Frankly, he could've cared a little less as to whether or not he was going to get caught. He had single-handedly managed to down his own mood.

Nygus chuckled and retreated to her seat in the middle row, placing her notebooks and pens neatly in front of her; she looked every part the diligent student that she certainly wasn't.

That poor teacher was certainly going to have a hard year with students like Mira, and admittedly, Spirit. But if he/she wanted the job, then that was sort of his/her fault. The door opened, triggering the eraser to fall. Marie gasped when the eraser bopped her on the head. A cloud of chalk dust exploded around her, and Spirit held his breath; he dreaded the blonde's reaction.

"Just an eraser?" Marie asked. She bent down to pick up the object, frown etched on her face. "We couldn't have thought of something better than an eraser for a prank. Come on, guys, let's think."

Mira was very quiet for a couple seconds before she erupted into a bout of laughter. "Okay, me and you are going to get along just fine. What's your big idea, then?"

The Hammer contemplated this question. "Well, I was thinking of something like a trigger alarm. Something just enough to scare our teacher into an easy school year. Remember, we can do worse. Questions, comments, complaints?" One could hear a pin drop in the middle of the room it was so silent. Even Spirit himself was shocked speechless. Marie's face was just so childlike and sweet that this side of her, this scarily devious side, was hard to catch. So hard, in fact, that Spirit might not have caught it had it not been for her suggestion.

Now, Spirit had both a healthy respect and fear of Marie. He should probably warn Stein about it at a later date. After all, she had kidnapped the Meister's treasured copy of Frankenstein; and as she said, she could do worse.

The teacher, a pale, bony man (the physical opposite of Petra Dietrich) stepped into the room; he was ringing his knobby hands together, shaking ever-so-slightly. Spirit glanced over at Marie to see a thin smile on her face. This guy had no hope, it seemed. Marie smiled sweetly, eyes closed, pleasant look on her face, as she sat down beside Spirit. Perhaps Spirit had something to worry about, as well.

"A-alright, c-c-c-class, I'd li-like to tal-t-talk to you t-t-today about be-being your own M-M-Meister. It w-was my f-f-fav-favorite c-class as a s-st-student, and I'd l-l-like you all t-t-t-t-to enjoy it. As well," the man said, stuttering to an almost painful degree. His eyes were an unsettling shade of blue, an icy (almost white) color. His hair had completely grayed (though Spirit was wondering as to whether it was due to age or stress) into a wispy head of white.

Spirit, like the rest of the class, groaned. What was the point of learning how to be your own Meister? After all, it was a Weapon's duty to take any hit intended for their Meister. If anything, a Meister should be talking a class on how to be your own Weapon. Then again, they did have Singled Survival.

What was that class even about, anyway?

The teacher (of whose name Spirit was not quite certain yet), took a breathy gasp of air. "W-Well, c-c-class, I'd li-like to tal-t-talk to you t-t-today about be-being your own M-M-Meister. I-it c-c-could be v-very b-b-b-beneficial."

"Did he just repeat himself?" Marie asked, leaning over by Spirit. The redhead nodded and tried to ignore the warmth and softness of Marie's body, the curl and color of her hair, and her golden eyes and-

No. Down, boy. Heel.

He couldn't just like two girls at once, right? That would be totally wrong, right? And besides, if nothing else, at least Kami wasn't the one who was semi-pining after the crazy Stein. That was the equally crazy Marie.

Yes, that little bit of information certainly made choosing a better girl easier. And what would Papa Albarn say about all this? With a grimace, Spirit  
imagined something like, _"You can't treat a poor honey's feelings like they're made of steel. A lady can get upset at the drop of a hat, son. Stay calm, stay happy, and don't do anything stupid."_

Ironically, that was the largest amount of words that Papa Albarn had ever said. At least he was happy in a relationship.

"You could be happy if you didn't flirt with every single girl at school," Marie whispered. Quickly, Spirit glanced at her with a confused expression. "You mumble a lot when you think. Weird, huh?"

"Yeah. Weird."

Spirit was now quite certain that he would never like to date Marie. Ever. That was perhaps the quickest and easiest breakup that Spirit had ever committed. Meaning, there really wasn't one; but knowing Spirit, he probably just said it all without knowledge.

Chancing a quick look over at Marie, Spirit realized that she was still watching the teacher intently, without any sort of confused or offended look on her face.

It was then that Spirit decided that he could breathe in relief.

"I-It s-s-seems that I won't be able to g-get t-thr-through to you s-students. That's quite alright, actually," the teacher said; by the last part of his statement, his stutter had vanished. "I will teach you all how to fight as your Meister, when need be. While your Meisters are strong, they are also vulnerable and can be defeated easily. That is when we step in."

The man transformed his hand into a gladiator-like sword then took several jabs at the air. The metal glistened under the lighting of the classroom, sparkling like dozens of tiny gems.

"None of you sheltered children know what it's like to be thrust into a fight with an inexperienced Meister. They could very well be the cause of an untimely death. Do you want to die for your Partner?"

Spirit glanced around the room; he noticed the uneasy looks of his fellow Weapons. Of course none of them wanted to die, and Spirit certainly didn't want to die for Stein. that was like a punishment above all else. But Spirit also didn't want his Meister to die on his watch.

That would really put a damper on Spirit's day. Mira raised her hand tentatively.

"Yes?" the teacher asked.

"Is it not a Weapon's duty to die for their Meister? That is what we were told last year."

Nodding, the man in the front of the room once again rung his hands together. "That is true, that is true. But a Weapon is just as important as a Meister. They shouldn't have to die while their Partner just hops on over to a new Weapon. Tell me, my dear, is that fair?"

In response, Mira ducked her head down.

"Quite right. I am not teaching you how to be your own Meister-"

Then what's the point of this class?

"-I am teaching you to be your own Meister when need be."

By the way he took a dramatic pause, the teacher may have believed that this was a groundbreaking statement; however, no one took a sharp intake of breath, no eyes widened, and no girls started crying hysterically. It was just a statement.

"We won't use our textbooks for this class."

Now this deserved a couple cheers (mainly from Spirit and Marie, of whom he was  
steadily growing fond of - but not in that way - they were over).

"You will be graded on each mission you and your Meister go on. I've already discussed this with Lord Death, and he happens to agree whole-heartedly. Many a Meister-Weapon-pair die because one or the other are too inexperienced to take over. This class will also correlate with the Singled Survival class that the Meisters are taking. O-Oh d-d-dear, it would s-seem as th-though I've b-b-been r-rambling for t-too long. Ha-Have a g-g-g-good day, c-class."

Everyone walked out of the classroom with the same confused look on his face. Spirit and Marie walked together to their next class (luckily Lunch), both deep in their thoughts. The Hammer held her school supplies tightly in her arms, though the weathered copy of Frankenstein was the closest to her body, making it the most secure. Stein would be pleasantly shocked.

"Did you understand half that class?" Marie asked.

"Do you think I understand half of what's going on?" the Scythe replied dryly.

The blonde chuckled. "Kami seems to think so. That you don't know anything, that is."

"How would you know?" Spirit shot back, perhaps a bit harsh, but he was sort of (maybe only a little bit) offended.

Glaring, Marie answered, "She's my roommate. They had an overflow of new female Meisters, so they needed a couple Weapons to room with Meisters. I got Kami, and we talked."

"Mostly about me?"

"All about you. And just so you know, you have no chance whatsoever with her. And if I were one of your many endeavors - all of us girls talk, by the way - you would also have no chance. So there."

The Hammer looked relatively pleased, until she noticed a small figure with short, black hair and rectangle-framed glasses. The figure was a girl, only a little shorter than Marie, with a sour look on her face. She pushed up her glasses, catching the light on part of the lens; Spirit winced at the harsh light.

"Here we have a case of perfectly good Weapons wasting their lives by dealing with relationships. Death help me," the strange girl muttered.

Once again, Spirit felt offended. "We're not wasting our lives, little kid. We're living them. Big difference."

Scoffing, the girl turned away from Spirit and Marie. "So you say. Just wait. Time will tell."

Marie, who looked relatively pale, spoke up, "Who are you, anyway?" The blonde's voice had lost all previous bite to it, now only a small squeak.

"I'm glad that you asked. My name is Azusa Yumi, and I will be running for the position of Student Council President for the Freshman class. I hope that I have your vote."

Although Spirit couldn't quite stand this girl, he also respected her drive. "Which grade are you in, anyway?"

"I happen to be a Freshman, because I am running for the Freshman Student Council. Do you not listen? Anyway, I feel as if people will admire my ambition. Can I expect your vote, or do I have to make festive button pins?"

"Let me be straight with you - if there are buttons involved, you have my vote," Spirit said plainly; he kept his composure straight and also managed to keep his expression nonchalant as Azusa's eyes brightened.

Marie, on the other hand, stayed uncertain. "Just take back what you said about relationships, and you'll probably have my support."

The ebony-haired girl gave the slightest of smiles, hardly noticeable, actually. "I'll mark you down, anyway. Thank you, and good day."

Spirit most certainly did not have a good day. In fact, it was one of his worst days ever. Stein acted weird, his First Aid class teacher was a secret Nazi, Marie was a stalker (Stein's stalker, to be exact), Azusa was weird and unsupportive of love.

And worst of all, the spoiled frosting on the dried up cake, was that Kami hated him. With a passion. And he made her cry.

Never before had Spirit ever felt so bad about hurting a girl's feelings.

Papa Albarn would be ashamed.

#MarieMjölner

When the blonde was finally cuddled up in her fluffy comforter, being very quiet as not to wake Kami, she had her flashlight positioned in her mouth and the Frankenstein book in her hands. She was very gentle with the yellowed pages, tried not to tear them in any way, shape, or form.

And the book was good, of course; Stein had recommended it, in an odd way, by being named after the titular character. But Marie liked how the book had Stein's gentle scent, the smell of generic body wash (that surprisingly had a scent all on its own) and odorless fabric softener (again, still had a scent).

Franken also smelled faintly of lavender, but Marie thought it best not to mention that. And so she took another sniff of the old book and continued reading throughout the night.


	3. Assistance

**A.N.: Sorry this took so long to get up! Honestly, I've had the chapter written, but I was just waiting for artwork (which was never drawn for me), so I kinda just gave up. I have the majority of the next chapter written, so I think I'll have that up as soon as possible. Unfortunately, I've kinda put this story on the back-burner after I've gotten obsessed with other fandoms (Young Justice!). But I want to hold a little equality with my stories, so I haven't given up!**

**I don't own Soul Eater; that belongs to Atsushi Ohkubo. I also don't own anything else, like _Frankenstein_. **

That was officially the worst sleep Spirit had ever experienced. What was worse was that he didn't sleep at all. Instead, the redhead just lay in his bed and stared at the plain-colored ceiling, willing for death to silently creep into his bedroom and capture his soul. He just continued glaring at the dormitory ceiling, listening to the sounds of Jefferson's snoring. Sometimes, the other Weapon was a very quiet sleeper; at others, Jefferson really wasn't.

No such luck. The redhead retained his soul throughout the entire night; it gave him ample opportunity to think. Jefferson was already a silent sleeper, making the room that much more quiet. It was terrible, really. Spirit felt awful, and he felt even more terrible when he remembered the way Kami was trying (and failing) to hold back her tears.

He had effectively broken the girl's heart. Through school.

Kami seemed (and proved) to be the type of girl to put her studies above a lot of things; and even moreso, she liked an honest grade and greatly disliked anyone (even Spirit) who put an obstacle in the way of high marks.

This is why she hated Spirit. However, the Redhead was very much set on changing her opinion, even if it earned him a thousand or two Kami Chops.

There was just something about her expression that wouldn't stop haunting him. That glare of hers was pne of the many things that robbed Spirit of his blissful sleep.

The redhead got up relatively early in the morning and put on his uniform, taking his extra time to fix his hair. Spirit even tried to manage his terrible cowlick (to no avail, of course), and groaned in defeat. Glancing warily at the mirror, Spirit met with a very tired look. His normally bright eyes were a duller sort of teal. He had bags under his eyes and a worried expression that even Spirit himself didn't know he was even capable of.

Locking the dorm room behind him, because stupid Jefferson had already left, Spirit stepped into the corridor. He made sure that he still had all his books and notebooks (and an apology note for Kami) before starting off to Study Hall.

Stein was already seated when Spirit sauntered into the room. Without even thinking, Spirit threw his belongings beside his Partner and sighed heavily.

"Could I perhaps help you?" Stein asked, his tone irritated.

Spirit sighed again. "Sort of, since you're apparently a ladies' man."

Choosing to ignore Stein's eyebrow quirk, Spirit listened intently to his Meister. To his credit, though, Stein did respond. "Speak."

"What do you do when you meet a cute girl, and you really like her, but you totally messed up with her, and you made her cry, and she sort of hates you now? How do you even begin to make that up to her?"

Stein was very silent for a few moments. "I could dissect her brain and come back with results."

"No. No, I'm alright."

"Then I have nothing for you, I suppose." Stein didn't seem too concerned that he had no answer for his Weapon, though Spirit wasn't too keen on most (if not all) of the Meister's solutions. The silver-haired student turned away from Spirit then, nonchalant look on his face.

Sometimes, Spirit was glad that he only had to interact with Stein when it came to fighting. He wasn't sure if he could handle dealing with anyone else.

Of course, the redhead chose to ignore Shinigami-sama's advice of, "Weapons and Meisters are friends for life, y'know!"

If he were being completely honest, Spirit would admit to only listening to half of what the quirky Reaper said. The rest was lost forever to the wind.

Deciding that Stein was going to say nothing more on the matter, Spirit found it prudent to attempt (key word, "attempt") to finish some of his homework. In hindsight, he probably should have completed it the night before; but, of course, he was too busy trying to figure out what he was going to say to Kami.

He came up with zero results. Azusa would be so proud.

Spirit warily looked at his Technique homework, frowning when a question on swordsmanship came up. He scratched the back of his neck and looked back at Jefferson. The brunette was sitting beside his Partner, sleeping.

Thanks, Jefferson. Always an inspiration to everyone.

In Weapon form, Jefferson was a Medieval-like sword. He and his Partner worked well together, because, despite the Meister's lanky form, he was quite quick and coordinated.

Though it was hard to admit it, Spirit was quite jealous of those practical-type Weapons. Every aspiring Meister who longed to be a Three-Star wanted a good and useful Weapon. Not a giant cross-like Scythe.

Spirit was impractical, he was unnecessary, he was-

The bell rang loudly through the entire room.

-dead. Spirit Albarn was going to be dead. Not only had he not finished his homework, but he also had to face Kami. Frankly, he wasn't sure who he should be more worried about.

Placing bets on Kami seemed like a fair bargain.

Trying (and failing) to swallow the overwhelming sense of fear that crept up on him like Stein crept up on helpless rodents, Spirit gathered his belongings and beat his Partner in the race to get out of the room.

"Listen, Stein, I have about two minutes and forty seconds before I meet my maker-"

"Improbable, but go on."

"-...alright," Spirit continued, irritated, "First, I need the answer to Question 27. Do you have that?"

Without looking, Stein answered, "Alber."

"Who knew. Okay, what do I say to Kami? Should I sit beside her, or just hand her this note that I wrote for her at three in the morning, or should I ignore her-"

"Oh, but you can't do that. She's special," the Meister replied sarcastically. Spirit ignored him.

"Right, I can't. But she says she never wants to see me again. How do you respond to that?" At this point, Spirit was grasping for any sort of help that his (very awkward and anti-social) Partner could give.

As means to rub salt in the wound, Stein smirked. "Perhaps you should respect her words and do just such."

Spirit calmly walked away after that. And, as always, Stein didn't try to redeem himself. In fact, he was probably getting some sort of sick satisfaction from his Weapon's obvious discomfort.

The walk to First Aid Class was pretty short, in comparison to other classrooms. Spirit walked in and halted abruptly, stopping right in front of Sid. The Meister grunted and glared when the redhead stayed glued to his spot on the floor.

"Really?" Sid asked, walking away (and grumbling under his breath) before he got an answer.

Kami sat at her same seat in the front of the classroom; she seemed to be reading ahead in the textbook, predictably. Quietly, Spirit sat beside her and tapped on her shoulder.

"I thought I wasn't talking to you," Kami said without lifting her eyes from her book.

"You just did," Spirit replied, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

Sighing heavily, Kami shut her book and instead opted for a notebook. The redhead noticed her very tiny handwriting on the lined pages.

Her very tiny and rather messy handwriting. In fact, Spirit, though he would never outright flaunt it, prided himself in his handwriting. Whatever few notes he did take were neat and professional-looking.

Kami's left much to be desired. Still, her notes were detailed and informative, which is more than one can say for Spirit's notes. Truthfully, Spirit felt as if Kami's notes would be much more useful than the textbook itself.

If one could read them, of course.

"You're staring at my notebook," Kami informed the redhead. She seemed almost bored by talking to Spirit.

Quickly, the Weapon switched his gaze. This didn't seem to please Kami that much. "Listen, I-"

The bell rang again, and Spirit cursed. Loudly.

Miss Dietrich used her sharp blue eyes to glare daggers at the Scythe. "Meester Albarn, vy do you inseest on using ze profaneetees een my class."

"I ask myself why I don't every day," Spirit mumbled back; he immediately realized what he said and slapped a hand over his mouth. This did nothing to put the teacher in a passive mood. If anything, the Weapon could've sworn he saw a vein pop on her head.

Spirit might've found it funny, had he not been worried about his personal well-being. Apparently, the rest of the class did not share such a sentiment, for the sound of hearty laughter (much more confident than the day before) echoed throughout the room like an alarm. Looking over at Kami, Spirit wasn't surprised when he saw her straight face.

"Meester Albarn! Vy don't you learn? Do I have to send you to Lord Deaz's office?"

The way she said "Lord Death" was what made most of her class bearable. That, and the rest of her accented words; they did hold power, however. Spirit most certainly did not want to be sent to Shinigami-sama's office. It sounded like too scary of a place to be, if one is not invited.

From the way things were going, Spirit was quite certain that the Reaper was not going to have a "Welcome" placemat set out for the Scythe.

"No, ma'am."

Petra seemed to be quite pleased with herself. "Good. Now zen, let us pass up our homevork!"

Spirit gulped. Sure, he had the majority of his homework done, but it wasn't enough. The neo-Nazi would be sure to notice. And the Weapon would be reaped by Shinigami-sama for sure.

Not good. Not good at all.

What would he even say as means to defend himself? "No, sir, I don't normally forgo homework and mouth off. I'm just preoccupied by this girl…"

As previously stated, Azusa would be so proud.

Kami was already ripping (careful not to tear the pages, only the perforated lines) her homework pages from her notebook. She glanced up at Spirit's helpless gaze and smirked. "You deserve this," she mouthed.

That one hurt. But egos could wait until later. At this moment, Spirit tried to pick his brain for an idea or two to get out of this mess.

The only problem was that Spirit's brain, simply put, was not efficient in solution-making. His battle reflexes always required more work than Stein's, as the silver-haired Meister was the type to improvise in less than three seconds. He made for a great Partner but a crummy friend.

Unfortunately, Stein was all Spirit had some of the time. Sid and Mira were good friends, sure, but they were also Partners. Which meant that Spirit often (_always_) played the third wheel in the group.

Sob stories could wait. "Meester Albarn, you have yet to get out your vork. Please say you have eet," Miss Dietrich said flatly.

"You won't go for the 'dog' thing, huh?"

"Meester Albarn."

Kami's hand shot in the air. "Miss Dietrich, I have a question: when questions on swordplay came up, I wasn't quite sure whether you were talking about swords in general; or swords from a time period, such as Medieval, or Victorian, or modern; or swords from different regions, like-"

"General, Mees Tsutano."

"And by 'general', you mean…?"

Huffing, Petra strode to the front of the room and chose a long piece of white chalk. "Vat I mean, Mees Tsutano, ees zat…"

While the teacher's words continued to drone and mingle, Kami stole Spirit's unfinished homework. She quickly uncapped her pen and filled in the remaining blanks. "Some of them are wrong answers because, frankly, I don't think you'd know the answer, but the rest is fine." Kami refused to make eye contact as she handed back the paper just as Petra turned back to Kami.

"Does zat answer your qvestion, Mees Tsutano?" Miss Dietrich asked, exasperated.

"Perfectly, actually, thank you." Kami's sweet smile was believable and cute, and Petra nodded, returning her attention back to Spirit.

"Here ve are again, Meester Albarn. Do you have your homevork?"

"Like I said, 'You won't go for the dog thing, huh?'." Spirit noticed Kami's confused expression turn violently obvious. "But you don't need to, because I have it right here. See," Spirit said, perhaps a bit cockily, pointing to his paper. Petra studied it for a moment before nodding.

In an alternate universe, she may have even been pleased. "For vonce you have not let me down. Very good."

"I do try, ma'am."

For the rest of the class, Spirit tried to figure out why Kami would even consider helping the Scythe, especially after everything that happened. Just the day before, she had said that she never wanted to see him again, and now…

She saved him. Again, actually.

When the bell rang, Spirit caught Kami by the wrist before she could leave. The blonde stared at his hand for a moment before attempting to shake Spirit off.

Oh, but he was much stronger than he looked. The redhead kept his firm grip. "Can we talk?"

"I have class."

"Huh. I do, too. Can we talk?"

"You're going to get me in trouble. Again." Yes, Kami was still apparently bitter about yesterday's transpirations; she did have good reason, of course.

Spirit sighed and thought for a moment. He silently prayed that his limited improv skills would work at least once. "Just say you weren't feeling well. They have to let you go on that one."

"I was trying to be nice. I don't want to talk to you. I thought Marie might've told you."

"And she did. I just - you are - I was -"

The Meister raised an eyebrow. "Is this going somewhere?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you in trouble, because you were only trying to help me, and you helped me today, too. So, thank you, and I'm sorry. And I wrote you a note," Spirit began, rummaging around in his pocket for his apology letter. When he didn't find it in the left pocket, the Weapon favored his books on his other arm and checked his right pocket.

No such luck. Panicking, Spirit turned around and bent slightly backwards; he attempted to see if he could find even a hint of paper in his pocket, though he noticed nothing.

"I know we just met, and I know you still hate me, but could you please check this pocket."

Kami hesitated. "Is this…normal in American culture?"

"Not at all. _Please_?" How could he have lost it? Spirit had been keeping such a good eye on that stupid slip of paper, too.

The Weapon felt a light pressure on his butt, could make out the sensation of each of Kami's thin fingers brushing against his pant fabric. He liked the feeling, naturally.

Kami, on the other hand, was a bright red. "It's _very_ official. I hate you."

"Did you find it?" Spirit asked when the pressure of her hand left. The Meister shook her head quickly.

"Sorry," Kami muttered, keeping her forest green eyes trained on the floor. Once again, her red face and green eyes resulted in the illusion of a Christmas tree. With strawberry frosting.

"No, it's cool-" the redhead cut himself off when his perfectly-balanced pile of books and notebooks became rather unbalanced. His belongings loudly fell to the floor. Cursing, he bent down to gather them up, stopping when he noticed a haphazardly folded piece of paper hidden under his BYOM textbook. He swore once more than cheered with delight. "Yes! _This _is your note!" The Scythe proudly presented the shoddy piece of paper with the goofiest grin he had ever used. What was worse was that he hadn't meant on using it.

Incredulously, Kami raised an eyebrow. "You mean to say that _this _is the note that you worked _so hard _on? Do you honestly expect me to forgive you because of _this _note?"

In hindsight, the idea in itself didn't sound very convincing. But the note seemed very...personal, to say the least. It was all of Spirit's hard work wrapped into one sleepless night of writing. And, of course, the Weapon's writing wasn't the best literary work in the world, but he also tried his best.

And he sounded _just _like a struggling fourth grader.

Spirit shifted his weight on one foot to the other. "I was kind of hoping you would, actually."

"Yes, well, I won't."

"Just-"

The Meister glowered. "I don't want to hear it, Albarn," she said, venom oozing in her voice. Her tone was almost enough to deter Spirit from his current goal. Almost. Not quite.

"-Just read it, _please_?"

Perhaps it was the sweet look in his teal eyes, or maybe the nervous habits he kept performing as he waited for her response. Perhaps it was even the desperate way he worded his question. No matter the reason, Kami sighed and swiped the note from the redhead's hand. Avoiding his gaze, she stuffed the paper into the front her Singled Survival textbook. Again, Spirit grinned.

"Thanks. You're so awesome!" Spirit practically shouted, running outside the First Aid classroom. This time, he managed to keep his books in perfect balance with his body weight. Somewhere, there must have been _some _science involved in running velocity and mass and the books. Somewhere, Spirit was very sure, there was science involved.

The Weapon was so ecstatic that he didn't even bother to look behind him, which meant that he didn't notice the blonde Meister shyly watching Spirit run away; she lowered her gaze to a certain part of his body that Kami's hand had recently been. The blonde's right hand shook ever-so-slightly as she reached for her books, still keeping her eyes glued to Spirit's retreating form. Fighting the lightest of smiles to etch itself onto her face, Kami finally pulled her stare away.

It was "very official." Kami did not hate Spirit; quite the opposite, really.

Kami had been checking him out.

As she walked away, Kami curiously cast a glance over her shoulder to notice Miss Dietrich fondly smiling. "Were you watching this entire time, Miss Dietrich?" the Meister asked politely.

"Vell, you _vere_ een my classroom. I had to. Ah, ze young love. Eet vill not last, but eet ees cute vile eet ees still young. Enjoy eet, my dear."

Laughing nervously, Kami replied, "No, ma'am, I'm not in love. He's just annoying."

"So you say, so you say. Just vait."

When Kami walked away, much more confused than she had been at the beginning of the class, she started. Because, honestly, she hadn't seen that one coming. And she _certainly _didn't have any feelings for Spirit Albarn whatsoever. He was rash and impulsive and rude at times, but she didn't care. She could've cared a little less, in fact. The Meister walked slowly to her next class, Singled Survival, and sighed; she didn't like how stupid Spirit made her scatter-brained, not one bit.

She didn't want to open this note. It could wait until the world stopped spinning, and she couldn't have cared _one _bit. Kami never wanted to see what the contents of this note had. Because-

She halted by the time her hand met the handle of the classroom door. Maybe she could pretend to be ill for just a little longer. This note couldn't wait for too long; it _could_ crumble to pieces, after all. Kami turned and sprinted down the hallway, settling herself into an empty classroom. She was rebelling and being terrible, and what if she was missing an important piece of information that would be used on the next exam? Or the next two exams?

What worried Kami Tsutano the most was that she didn't care. This note was bugging her. Badly.

_Dear Kami,_

_I know that I really messed up. And I know that you never want to see me again. Ever again. But I want to see you again, because I really like you. You're pretty and smart, and I bet you'd be really nice if I didn't make you mad. I bet you're really good at being a Meister and stabbing things, because that's what Stein does...and he's sort of my Meister._

_And I hear that he's pretty good._

_I'm really sorry that I hurt your feelings. I really didn't mean to. _

_P.S.: Thanks for your help in Miss Dietrich's class. I really needed that notebook._

_From Spirit_

Kami smiled lightly, then quickly stopped. She was not, she could _not _be...sympathetic...for that Albarn boy. He was stupid and immature and lived to get her in trouble. And yes, he had a nice (incredibly nice) backside, but that was it.

Unfortunately for Kami, the blonde spent so much time brooding about her (nonexistent) feelings that she forgot to check the time. When the green-eyed Meister finally did look up, she only had ten minutes left of Singled Survival class. Perhaps Spirit had a point in the faking of the illness trick to get out of just this one class. She would never do it again, of course.

Taking just a few moments to perfect a fake cough and grimace, Kami smiled lightly to herself and ventured out of the classroom. She would deal with those stupid butterflies in her stomach later, she decided.

_#FrankenStein_

"I really enjoyed it!" Marie chirped, holding out the weathered copy of _Frankenstein_. She held the book delicately in both of her hands; from a distance, Stein noticed her nicely-painted yellow nails. They were a little bright for his liking, but at least they weren't smudged or chipped. He could appreciate that.

Back to the matter at hand. "You've already finished it?" the silver-haired teen asked. He quirked an eyebrow, trying to look nonchalant, though it was rather hard to hide his surprise. Honestly, Franken hadn't considered the fact that Marie was actually a speed-reader. He took his book as politely as possible but didn't bother to smile in thanks.

Because Stein had been the one lending her the book; he shouldn't have to extend his kindness any farther.

"Do you have _Dracula_?" Marie asked.

"Do I look like I own that book?"

The blonde contemplated the question for a few moments. "You're pale..." she answered, uncertain.

Holding back a sigh, Stein began to think to himself. He had originally been right, he thought. Marie wasn't a speed-reader, not at all. In fact, the Meister figured that she just flipped through to book to see all the pretty pictures.

"Oh, and Franken?"

"I prefer 'Stein'."

"Oookay... Anyway, I just wanted to say 'thank-you'. It was a really good book, much better than the movie."

With that, Marie turned and practically skipped away, allowing Franken to bask in her blondeness. He wasn't surprised; it would've been wrong to overestimate someone. And yet, that certain part of Stein that he suspected was still semi-normal argued. Maybe it was a ruse of Marie's. Perhaps she was just trying to get the Meister to let his guard down.

But when the blonde girl couldn't push open a door that said "Pull", Stein's other half smirked.

Because, of course, maybe not.


	4. Intimidation

"Let's go! Soul Resonance!" the Meister and Weapon pair shouted in unison.

Stein grit his teeth, shifting slightly. He took another step back and closed his eyes calmly. In what would seem to take a few minutes, had he not practiced, Stein accomplished in mere seconds. A pulse of energy surrounded him and the Weapon clenched in his hand. Opening his eyes, Franken pushed off the ground and felt the wind rushing past him. He swung his arm and struck, smirking when he made contact with his opponent's side.

The Scythe in Stein's hand winced. He hated making direct contact on an opponent, especially when they were just training with other students. There was always that terrible feeling of flesh being cut into that made Spirit's stomach flip. However, Stein, ever-the-thorough, never stopped with one hit. He always went for more blood than needed.

And he got it.

The fellow student facing Stein recoiled dizzily. He nearly lost his footing, nearly lost the Weapon held tightly in his hand, and nearly knocked into the wall behind him. With a start, the boy realized that he had been backed up, cornered. Darting to the left, he ducked under Stein's arm and held out the Halberd in his hand for means of defense. Raising an eyebrow leisurely, Stein smiled his crazed grin and took another swing at the other Meister's side. Naturally, the boy veered to the right to avoid contact; he didn't quite realize that he had backed himself against the wall once more.

When he had nothing else to do in a battle, Spirit liked to examine the physical characteristics of his and Stein's opponents. He noticed the Meister in front of him, with chestnut-y brown hair and sepia-colored eyes. He was smaller than Stein, and thin, and had that nervous Freshman look to him. The way he held his Weapon was novice-like, too tightly fisted in his hand at some points; he even double-handed the Weapon without thinking at times. The boy used his left hand to clutch at his injured side, trying (and failing) to ignore the blood seeping through his fingers. It didn't seem to be a terribly-dangerous wound, Spirit thought, but it would be bad enough to get worse if left untreated. Quickly deciding that attempting to stop the bleeding was much too troublesome at this moment, the Meister lifted his hand from his side.

With a grimace, Spirit averted his eyes from the boy's blood-coated hand.

Up until this point, Franken had been attacking idly. Sighing, however, the silver-haired Meister didn't hesitate any longer. He flicked his wrist and charged once more, quickly flipping Spirit so that the blunt part of his Scythe form struck the sandy-haired teen in the temple. Without mercy, Stein reared his unoccupied hand back and charged his Soul Wavelength. The crackle of the electrical-like attack was blood chilling.

The poor Meister opposite Stein blindly swung his Halberd; he swayed unsteadily, moving quickly but haphazardly. Spirit could only guess that he was suffering from a concussion at this point, or just very disoriented.

"Hey, are you okay?" The Halberd asked, worriedly. His voice was hard yet almost caring at the same time.

"Fine," the brunette replied; Spirit could tell that he was lying, but every Meister wanted to at least have the chance to _fight _Stein. Giving up would be much too cowardice, it would seem. Even if it was at the cost of this Meister's health.

"Soul Menace!"

In an instant, Franken found the unguarded part of the other Meister's stomach, thrusting his electrically-charged hand in forcefully. The brunette's sepia-colored eyes widened in surprised pain before he was knocked against the wall; the structure chipped slightly at the impact of a fresh body against it. The smaller Meister shook violently with the aftershocks of Stein's attack, sliding down the wall slowly, taking some of the dislodged gravel with him, and slackening his hold on his Weapon. Almost immediately, the Halberd reverted into his human form and placed his arms around his Partner's shoulders, nudging him gently. "Hey, are you okay?"

The other Weapon was a very tanned teen, with a muscular build, and dark waves of hair that framed his face. He had an intimidating sort of look to him, but it was his soft blue eyes that showed his true demeanor. The Weapon kept a worried expression on his face when his Partner didn't stir much at all, eventually opting to scoop him into his arms.

Stein had an indifferent expression on his face. It was infuriating, to say the least.

Spirit, too, turned back into a human, bending down and placing a gentle hand on his fellow Weapon's shoulder. "Do you need help getting to the nurse's office?" he asked, not unkindly. The redhead backed off when the tanned teen shot him a deadly look.

This was a normal occurrence when it came to sparring with Stein. There really wasn't much hope for the other party, unless they were genetically engineered; and even then, Spirit was quite certain that the scientist-to-be could split a person's atoms far quicker than one would expect. Stein would pretend as if he was having difficulties in the first few minutes, and then he would attack relentlessly. Always, _always_ someone ended up going to the nurse's office; or worse yet, the actual Death City hospital.

"That was fun," Stein commented dryly; there was a lazy sort of smirk playing on his lips, one that signified that Stein was quite proud of his accomplishments. Spirit, on the other hand, felt sick to his stomach. He knew that other students watched, and people saw what the silver-haired Meister was capable of. He was a dangerous opponent, there was no doubt about it. And yet, people still tried to challenge him, just to see if they were good enough to win.

They never really were. It was a stupid gamble that would eventually get someone killed, Spirit figured.

In this instance, it wasn't the sepia-eyed boy's fault. They (meaning the entire school) were having a Sparring Class, and the pairs were picked randomly. It just so happened that Lady Luck played a mean hand on this Meister.

The redheaded Weapon watched with concerned eyes as the Halberd rushed to seek medical attention. His Partner was still lethargic and highly unresponsive, and Stein's first hit had also been steadily bleeding as the battle continued. In the end, Spirit realized, there was a sizable smudge (or rather, smear) of blood left on the wall from where the brunette had slid down it. This was a sort of testament to what a Weapon did, in a terrible way. Spirit himself never laid a hand on a fellow student. He wouldn't, under normal circumstances, even entertain the idea. It was the Meister that wielded the Weapon that did the damage. Stein had been the one swinging Spirit around like some sort of axe-crazy maniac, yet Spirit had been the one to make the cuts.

The thought left a sour taste in the Scythe's mouth.

Stein bent on his knees to rub some of the Meister's abandoned blood between his thumb and forefinger, then adding his long finger. He didn't seem to care that blood was getting on the rest of him; in fact, it probably fascinated him, in some sick sort of way.

"Do you think I should take a sample?" Stein asked, curious.

"It's red; what else do you need to know?"

"If he dies, we'll need to see if he had any sort of physical ailments prior to his expiration. Perhaps a blood disease?"

Spirit twitched angrily. "That's the coroner's job, isn't it?"

"Ah, but they never do it right."

"He won't die, will he?"

Stein placed his hands on his knees and stood, smirking in Spirit's direction. His eyes had that crazed look to them that they got immediately following a fight. They were now a hazy green that reminded Spirit of a foggy forest.

"Isn't that your God's job to decide?" the silver-haired Meister asked, shrugging. He began to walk away before getting an answer from his Partner; but he stopped and turned back to the direction of the wall. Pulling out a tiny cylindrical flask with a silver-looking stopper, he held the bottle by some of the excess blood.

The Weapon beside Stein felt like screaming. "That's sick," he commented, when Stein capped the top of the flask. The silver-haired Meister blinked a few times before nodding.

"I totally agree."

Stein walked away after that, and Spirit was left to stare at the empty wall, with the stain of blood still there. The redhead felt terrible, worse than he had ever felt before, when sparring. Normally, opponents had it coming, when it came to fighting Stein; but this kid, he probably didn't even weigh more than a hundred-and-twenty pounds. And still, the silver-haired Meister decided to smack the living...life...out of the poor kid.

And that left Spirit as the bad guy.

He was about to turn away, shoulders slumped, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Still in high-alert, as he always was immediately following a fight, Spirit turned and nearly drew his arm into a Scythe form.

Kami stared at Spirit, blinking a few times before her eyes narrowed; she reared her arm back and punched Spirit square in the jaw. Despite her cold glare, however, Spirit almost caught a hint of glee at the popping sound that his injury made; and she certainly made it a point to obviously ignore the obvious discomfort left by Spirit's obviously-broken jaw.

She obviously didn't care one iota.

It had been two weeks since the two had encountered their "awkward pocket" experience. It had become the unspoken agreement that neither of them were supposed to discuss, talk about, or acknowledge it. Both did fairly well with adhering to this rule, yet Spirit occasionally found his eyes wandering to Kami's hands (because she _touched __his butt_). He also pretended not to notice that she, at certain times of the day, had a tendency to stare at the-place-where-her-hand-had-been.

Meaning, plainly, that Kami often checked out Spirit's butt. And he _loved _it, but not in the narcissistic sort of way. It was in the way that a pre-teenage girl reacted to a guy checking out her developing chest.

"Stein went too far," Kami muttered, mostly to herself, but loud enough for Spirit to catch. She pointed nonchalantly at Spirit's quickly-bruising mouth. "Your jaw is dislocated. Perhaps you should get that checked out."

"Hmm? Nah..."

The reply was almost (completely) sarcastic, but Kami didn't seem to pick up on that. "I think that you should go to the infirmary. That way you can get both your mysteriously-injured jaw fixed, and you can check up on him." The small blonde kept an innocent look to her face, though there was a seriousness to her tone that just _dared _Spirit to contradict her. And if there was one thing that Kami was very good at, it was giving her opinionated input; whether it be right or wrong, she didn't back down.

Kami's input was also very helpful and encouraged at times; at others, however, it wasn't needed nor appreciated. And at this moment, Spirit wasn't very thankful for the green-eyed Meister's opinion.

"My jawbone is just fine, thanks." Spirit tried very hard to edge away from the petite Meister in front of him, yet she only reached out to grab his arm. Her glare was rather frightening at this point, the Weapon decided quickly. Actually, Kami's glare was pretty scary at any distance or angle. "Seriously, Kami, I _don't _want to. I don't do that sort of stuff."

Puffing out one cheek, Kami huffed. "Why? You tried to kill him; apologize, at the very least."

"I didn't try to kill him," Spirit replied sharply. At the very least, he figured that his tone would manage to deter Kami's suggestions, yet it only seems to infuriate her even more. "I'm not going."

"You should. He looked terrible when he and his Partner left. Spirit," she began, lowering her voice, expression softening, "What if he...you know...?"

Spirit felt a spike of anger surge through him. It wasn't fair, he reasoned to himself, that he should be the one blamed for that Meister's injuries. He was just the Scythe that, unfortunately, had been used to Stein's advantage. But it wasn't Spirit's fault. It wasn't.

"I know that," he replied gently, allowing any harsh feelings dissipate almost as soon as they bubbled up to the surface. Spirit noticed Kami look at the wall wordlessly and bite her lip absentmindedly. It was cute, he thought, how she put that "tough guy" persona down when no one was watching.

No one but Spirit, that is.

"You're desperate," the blonde said nonchalantly. It took a few moments for Spirit to catch what she had said, and he gave her an odd look in response. "I can tell. Your Soul just seems...desperate...for some reason. You know?"

Shaking his head, the Weapon took a few cautious steps backwards. "Not really. No. Not at all," Spirit replied, cursing himself for gaining that high-pitched tone that he normally did when nervous.

"Huh."

With that, Kami dropped the subject, and began to run her fingers through her hair. She gathered her blonde-beige hair into a loose ponytail, ignoring the few fly-away strands, and used her teeth to pull off the ponytail holder that hung loosely on her wrist. She twisted the band four times exactly before letting her hair fall at her neck. "It was bothering me," she explained. Spirit noticed that her nails had a new coat of nail polish painted on, yet some of her skin ended up getting painted a dull yellow color, too. "I don't care what you're doing, Spirit, but I think that I'm going to visit him." Turning on her heels, Kami began to walk away. She was so confident, Spirit thought, and he wished that he had that sort of courage. He wouldn't be surprised if her blunt opinion on everything kept her going through life.

Spirit didn't expect Kami to turn around and groan. "I was trying to imply that you should follow me. Didn't my air of self-confidence motivate you?"

"I was just sort of...silently admiring you. Was I supposed to run after you?"

Kami turned a bright red. "That might've been appreciated, actually," she mumbled. Her normally-straight shoulders slumped, and her tone was much less commandeering than usual. It would seem, at least to Spirit, that all of the blonde's smoke from her words had dissipated. Or, as the "uneducated southerners" would say it, "Kami done lost her smoke."

Spirit sighed very loudly. "If I go visit that kid, whose name I don't even know, may I remind you-"

"Noted."

"-I don't want to go alone. I'm not good at that sort of stuff, okay? Can you just-"

"Come with you? I'd be honored." Kami's tone was flat and humorless, yet somehow Spirit still allowed himself the slightest of hesitant smiles; he was still very aware of the fact that Kami could hurt and beat him within an inch of his life.

Kami shouldered her bag (Spirit didn't even know that she was capable of holding something so...feminine? Not to say that she wasn't pretty, or anything, but she just didn't seem like the type), and narrowed her eyes. "Did I say something?" she asked. Then, letting all of the conversation sink in, she smiled gently. "Oh, you're thankful! You're welcome."

Kami's obvious excitement allowed her accent to get thicker, and the redhead fought the sudden urge to laugh. This would end up with a black eye to compliment his broken jaw, and the school nurse would be quite confused. After all, Spirit and Stein had managed to come out of that fight unscathed, yet Spirit would then show up with an injured (yet still devilishly attractive) face. This would, hopefully, raise some sort of suspicion. "You know, I've never broken a bone."

"Neither had I," the Weapon replied dryly, nursing his jaw again. For a few moments, the pain would subside, and then it would come back full-force. Painfully, suddenly, unforgivably.

The beige-blonde-haired girl turned to take a good look at the tall redhead. "I'm sorry about your jaw, by the way, though I think you'll be alright. Do you want me to set it?"

Beware the innocent tone, Spirit reminded himself, taking a hesitant step backwards. "Nah, that's cool. In fact, you can visit that poor Meister while I get my mouth fixed, and we'll meet up in the hallway. Sound like a plan?" For a few seconds, Kami seemed to contemplate this thought, and then her green eyes widened.

"No! You are trying to trick me, but I saw past that. Now, if you'll follow me, we're going. Now." With no more words or convincing tactics, Kami lead the way outside the training area. This time, Kami didn't turn to make sure that the Weapon was following her. In fact, Spirit figured that she was quite certain that he would follow without question.

And he would hate to disappoint her. He jogged a little to keep up with her, huffing when she didn't slow down even slightly for Spirit's convenience. Turning a sharp corner, Kami walked inside the infirmary; she stopped suddenly, gulping, and whipped around when Spirit accidentally ran into her. "Seriously? _Now _you slow down?"

"I don't really like hospitals or nurse's offices," Kami replied very softly.

"Oh, I thought you've never broken a bone," the Weapon retorted; he noticed a hint of sarcasm in his voice, yet Kami didn't seem too terribly upset about his tone.

"I haven't. I just have a natural Nosocomephobia. It's completely normal. And natural." There was a light blush on the blonde's face, so she turned to keep Spirit from seeing too much more of it.

Chuckling, Spirit clapped a hand on her shoulder. "You know, you can hold my hand if you start to get scared. Or you could grab onto my uni-Ow!" the redhead exclaimed when Kami sent a swift kick to his shin. "If we keep this up, I will be in a _coma _before we even visit the stupid kid!"

"Who's stupid?" a deep voice asked. Gasping in unison, Spirit and Kami both turned to see the intimidating Partner from before, arms crossed against his chest. He seemed rather...upset...at Spirit's appearance, yet he wasn't hostile.

At the moment.

Gulping, Spirit put his arms up in surrender. "No one. Nothing. Kami, why did you say that?" Yeah, it was _super _wrong to place the blame on the cute girl that he was trying to get together with, but Spirit wasn't and _could not _get into some sort of fist-fight with this Weapon without Stein's help. Because, despite how terrible of a person Stein was, he also made a great Partner.

"I didn't..." Kami started, trailing off, glaring in Spirit's direction.

The tanned Weapon took a step towards Spirit's direction, snarling almost in a mocking sort of way when the redhead took a large hop backwards. "I know you didn't. This guy just wants to end up in the hospital."

Kami let a tiny, nervous laugh escape. "I already punched him in the mouth. If that means anything, of course, sir."

"A-and she kicked me in the shin. And it's _really _painful. Just saying."

Pushing a wave of hair away from his face, the fellow Weapon grunted. "Not helping," he whispered menacingly.

Kami and Spirit both cowered beside each other, shaking. The two of them were closer than Spirit could have ever imagined or hoped for, yet this meant absolutely nothing right now. If anything, Spirit wished that he was as far away from Kami as possible. And she could be here. Facing the giant. Without Spirit.

"How is he?" Kami asked earnestly, pushing herself a bit in front of Spirit. She seemed to be one of those types that believed that being closer to a person made them much less fearsome. Spirit, on the other hand, was fond of the idea "out of sight, out of mind." Luckily, the blonde's question seemed to throw the tanned Weapon for a loop. He furrowed his brow in confusion before clenching his large and formidable-looking fists.

"Fine, not that that's any of _his _business." With menace, the angered Weapon gestured in Spirit's direction. And, taking this as a cue to leave or run or go away very quickly, Spirit laughed more nervously than Kami had.

"Yes, and it's not, so I'm going to be leaving now. I'm glad that your Partner's alright, my best regards to the both of you, and I really must be leaving. Kami, you may choose to follow me, but if you don't, I don't think that I'll turn around. Nice meeting you, by the way; you seem absolutely charming." Never feeling so rude, Spirit turned on his heel, freezing when a firm hand landed on his shoulder. He whimpered much like a child would, and prepared himself for what he figured would be an eminent punch to his face.

It didn't come.

"Your Partner. Why didn't he stop when he had already won?" It was something about that Weapon's blue eyes, the terribly vulnerable look in his expression that contradicted terribly with his rough appearance, that made Spirit's heart clench in a most painful manner.

To be honest, Spirit had never given much thought as to why Stein was so merciless in battle. It was just sort of a given that the opposing Meister (and sometimes the Weapon, also) would end up in the school's infirmary. "Um..."

"Why did he keep going?"

Thinking back, Spirit thought that, perhaps the fight was already over the minute Stein had struck the chestnut-haired boy in the side. Given enough time of swinging and dodging, the smaller Meister would've already lost enough blood to make him terribly dizzy; then, it would've been much too easy for Stein to knock the boy off his feet. The situation didn't require Stein's Soul Menace.

None of them ever did, really.

Looking over at Kami's direction, Spirit noticed that, for once, the beige-blonde Meister kept any and all opinions to herself; in fact, she was strangely silent, biting her lip in deep thought.

It was a habit of Kami's, it would seem.

"I don't know," Spirit replied softly.

This answer seemed to satisfy the tanned Weapon. "Why do you put up with it, then? No one likes either of you, and everyone who _does _like you is too terrified of you to _start _disliking you."

Spirit chewed on this thought. "Listen, I'm just trying to get to Death Scythe status, and then I'll cross that bridge. And I didn't even _want _to come here in the first place!" Spirit pointed in Kami's direction. "She made me!"

"I was worried," Kami retorted, sticking her nose in the air and crossing her arms against her chest. She was mad, obviously. "So you're both welcome."

The two Weapons blinked in disbelief at the small blonde. She was very set in her ways, it seemed, if nothing else.

When the blonde began to walk ahead of the pair, Spirit shrugged his shoulders hopelessly. There was no arguing with Kami, the redhead decided. And, he supposed, a certain part of him was grateful for that fact. The tanned weapon only glared a little more at Spirit before looking ahead to the beige-blonde. "How long have you two been dating?" he asked in a low voice. For once in his life, Spirit was caught off-guard. The redhead sputtered and shook his head violently.

"We're not dating. I'm working on it."

Snorting, the other Weapon folded his arms across his chest. "Could've fooled me," he responded. Spirit smiled lightly to himself as he watched Kami open the infirmary door. She crept in very quietly, a soft smile spread across her features. She walked inside, stopping only to cast Spirit a sideways glance. It was the sort of glance that practically threatened him to follow her, lest the redheaded teen feel the sting of whatever torture the green-eyed Meister would later choose to inflict upon him.

"Do you mind if I...?" Spirit trailed off, nervously awaiting for some sort of curse upon his life from the tanned Weapon. However, much to his surprise, the other Weapon only nodded and stepped back a bit.

"Go in. But if you even _think _about doing anything, it'll be your body in the infirmary next time. Got it?"

Spirit nodded his head violently. "Got it," he replied in a high voice.

And as the teal-eyed teen walked toward the door, heart beating inside his chest, and opened the door after Kami had shut it behind her, he was very much aware of his mortality. However, he wasn't quite sure whether it would be this dangerous-looking Weapon that would end his life, or the blonde Meister that would kill him. Either way, it wasn't going to be good.

Not at all.

_#KamiTsutano_

_She looked up at the sudden noise from outside the room and noticed a redheaded teen walk into the infirmary with a nervous look plastered on his face. The two made eye contact, and Kami glared at Spirit with the greatest intensity that she could muster._

_However, she only glared with such great ferocity to keep herself from smiling. _

**A.N.: So no school today. And I know that I haven't updated in forever, but I wanted to get this up. No artwork. Again. But I hope that you guys don't mind too much. I haven't decided on names for the new Weapon/Meister pair (they probably won't be too important in the story, but you know...OCs...what can you do?), so if you guys have any ideas, I would love to hear them. Also, I don't own Soul Eater, obviously, so this is what it is. Hope you guys enjoyed, and reviews would be loved.**


	5. Agreements

Spirit stuck his hands inside his pockets, gulping nervously. He hated this feeling, this feeling of guilt. He knew that he had been partly responsible for getting this kid stuck in the infirmary, and _he _had been the one who had actually hurt the kid. Even if the old saying was, "Guns don't hurt people. People with guns hurt people."

At this moment, Spirit wasn't feeling too confident about this statement. He could've stopped Stein if he truly felt like it, the redhead supposed. He could have turned back, even if it would've bothered Stein to no end. But it would've kept this poor kid safe. No one deserved to receive the kind of beating that only Stein could give. It wasn't fair, plain and simple.

Kami had pulled up two chairs by the kid's bed. The chestnut-haired kid (poor guy) glanced at the two with nervous expressions. He obviously had no clue what was going on, and an intrusive Meister pulling up some seats by him probably wasn't helping. Spirit tried not to make eye contact; he couldn't stand himself when he saw the pained expression in that stupid kid's sepia eyes. It wasn't fair that Stein had done all the work, but Spirit was the one feeling guilty. It wasn't fair at all.

"Hello," Kami said plainly, as if she and this guy had been having a conversation for the past two hours. "I'm Kami Tsutano. This is Spirit Albarn. He's here to apologize for hurting you."

"I didn't hurt him," Spirit hissed in the blonde girl's ear, now refusing to even look at the injured teen lying in bed.

"You're an enabler," Kami retorted, green eyes completely serious. "Besides, it's your job as a respectable Weapon to pick up the slack that your Meister gives you."

Spirit grit his teeth together. Frankly, he didn't feel like arguing, but if Kami was going to be so...difficult, then he certainly wasn't going to pass up a good shouting match. "Oh, so now I'm just supposed to apologize to every Kishin we knife? 'I'm sorry, Mister Kishin, that my dearest Meister and I had to cut you up so that I may eat your soul. Please forgive me. It would mean ever so much.'" Spirit exaggerated his statement by clasping his hands together, much like Marie might, and raising his pitch to a more feminine level.

"Why are you so facetious?" Kami spat, stomping her foot on the linoleum floor. The chestnut-haired boy conveniently found interest in the ceiling and kept his eyes training up there, only flinching whenever Kami or Spirit got a little too loud.

"Do you think that using big words makes me feel bad? It doesn't!"

"You don't even know what that means, do you?

"Not really!"

Kami huffed loudly and plopped herself down in a chair. It was a red plastic chair with little tennis balls on the ends of the legs so that it didn't make a scraping noise when dragged against the ground. Spirit also sat down in a navy blue chair. "You're impossible," she stated, crossing her arms.

"Thanks, hon."

"I don't even know why I try to help! You obviously are content in being a complacent jerk. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if you're as twisted as Stein."

Spirit balled his fists, choosing not to answer. He knew that if he responded, it would be some biting remark that he wouldn't be able to take back. And honestly, he'd rather not have the wrath of Kami against him. Truly, she _was _a force to be reckoned with.

It seemed as if Kami noticed the redhead's voluntary silence; she leaned close to him, moss green eyes staring intently into his teal ones. If they weren't arguing right now, Spirit would have been ecstatic to be in such close company with this girl. She wasn't stunning, not really; she was pretty, in a plain sort of way (certainly not as eye-catching as Marie), but there was something so magnetic about Kami that Spirit couldn't get off his mind. She was down-to-earth and not afraid to tell the Scythe when he was being an idiot. And, above all, she was ballsy. She was manlier than half the male population at the DWMA.

"Cat got your mouth?" she asked, eyes narrowing. Spirit quirked an eyebrow at her question.

"You did _not _just say that wrong," he said in disbelief. The redhead smirked at the color that rose to her face in embarrassment. "You totally did! It's 'Cat got your _tongue_'!" Laughing might have been a fatal move, but Spirit couldn't contain himself. Gripping his sides, the Weapon continued laughing until he noticed Kami's hand moving.

"KAMI CHOP!"

From out of nowhere it seemed, Kami had gotten a large, leather-bound book and had then decided that it belonged on Spirit's head. She hit him with such force that the redhead fell out of his chair. He lay on the floor, gripping his throbbing head, while she nodded triumphantly. The satisfaction she received from giving a man a concussion with literary material was overwhelmingly alarming.

"Excuse me?" a soft voice interrupted. It was timid, and who could blame it? Spirit had just been violently attacked by a tiny Meister with a deadly book. Both Spirit and Kami turned towards the chestnut-haired boy. He had since lost interest in his escape, the ceiling, and was now sitting with blankets drawn around him, probably for precautionary purposes. "Can I ask why you're here?"

"I already told you," Kami said curtly. "_This idiot_," she said, motioning towards Spirit, "is here to apologize. In fact, I'll give you two a moment alone." Very calmly, the blonde got up from her chair and walked towards the door, nearly coming face to face with the dark-skinned Weapon from earlier. She yelped only slightly, said a polite apology, and walked out the door. Once outside, she glanced back at Spirit and offered him both an _I'm going to kill you if you screw this up_ and a _but I'm proud of you_ look simultaneously. Ironically, neither gave the redhead any form of comfort._  
_

Spirit looked between the Meister and the Weapon, gulping loudly for the second time that day. "Listen, I didn't know that he'd do that. Really, I'm sorry. So I said that, and I'm gonna go. Have a good day; take luck!"

_Take luck? _Spirit thought to himself in disbelief. Who says that? Still, the sentiment _was _there; the redhead really _did _want the poor guy to get better. The chestnut-haired boy smiled, if not a bit warily, and looked to his Weapon. "I think he's alright, Thresh. How about you?"

'Thresh' said nothing; he narrowed his gaze on Spirit, scrutinizing the Scythe. "Whatever," he said finally.

"Well, I hope you get better soon," Spirit added, rubbing the back of his head nervously. He felt like running out of there; but he knew that if he did, the blonde behind the door would only get angrier at him. "If there's anything I can do for you, uh, don't hesitate to ask." And the Weapon meant it. He was truly sorry that Stein had gone _way _too far, especially on an inexperienced Freshman.

The Meister pondered this suggestion for a few moments. "Well, I guess I'd like for you and that other girl to stay away for a while. I mean, no offense, but your girlfriend's crazy."

Spirit coughed awkwardly. "She's _not _my girlfriend! How many times do I have to tell you guys this? She's crazy, sure, but we are not in a relationship." The redhead thought about his statement. "Yet. Working on it."

"If you ask me, you've got a long road ahead," Thresh commented dryly, gaining an elbow to the stomach from his Meister. "I'm being honest."

After a few nervous laughs, Spirit excused himself, gave his best wishes, and stepped outside the infirmary. He came face-to-face with Kami, who had her arms folded across her chest. "I guess you stayed in there long enough. Did you apologize? I'm sure you did, otherwise I'd have to hurt you severely. Did you offer future assistance? Of course you did. It would be incredibly rude if you hadn't. Have you three made peace and amends? I highly doubt it, considering you're not very good at being 'kind.'"

Naturally, the Weapon was at a loss for words; Kami seemed to cover the entire gambit. "Hey, we laughed and smiled and they called you _crazy_. Because you are. Incredibly crazy." If he were more of a perceptive person, Spirit might've noticed the recoil that Kami gave. She immediately turned her head to the side, making a noise of disbelief.

"Whatever. I don't honestly care how people feel about me."

It probably was a lie, because Kami was a girl, and girls _did _care about this sort of stuff, but Spirit really didn't care. Sure, he liked Kami, but she had gotten him into more trouble than he'd care to relive. Of course, it was also Stein's fault, so the blonde girl wasn't entirely to blame. And, Spirit _was _Stein's Weapon, so the redhead also had some of the guilt. Spirit also reasoned with himself that Kami was only trying to help, and she did genuinely care about that Meister, and she was pretty brave to not run in fear of Thresh.

"Yeah, you do. You're a girl. All girls care about this sort of stuff, don't they?" Spirit questioned. He tried not to notice the way Kami's eyes watered ever-so-slightly. Her lip quivered, and within a millisecond, Kami ran down the hallway. The redhead took a few moments to get all his thoughts put together before he took off after her. "Kami!" he called; he tried to catch onto her arm, but she _did _have a rather thin arm. (That, or Spirit just wasn't that fast.) "Seriously, you run like a chicken!"

"I do not!" Kami called behind her. "Chickens waddle. I'm _sprinting_!" Spirit had to agree with her on that fact. And she was _really _speedy.

"You do a _lot _of chicken-like things! You make weird noises like them, you run like one, and you write with chicken-scratch!" Kami stopped abruptly, causing Spirit to bump into her, knocking the blonde off her feet. Of course, Spirit caught her arm and helped her back to her feet. "And you have to be more careful," he reminded cheekily.

The blonde Meister sputtered a few times before punching Spirit in the arm. "I am _not _a chicken! And you can't convince me otherwise!" Her face was a bright red, and she still had a few remnants of tears in her eyes, but she wasn't nearly as emotional.

"You can say that, but you're still gonna be my chicken from now on. Consider it your nickname."

Kami continued to yell at the redhead for a good three minutes; she claimed that she certainly _wasn't _a chicken, and Spirit shouldn't refer to her as such. Of course, all this yelling and information about chickens went in one ear and out the other. Spirit wasn't keen on losing such an adorable nickname, and he was pretty sure that Kami truly didn't mind all that much. She just had an image to keep, and admittedly, a nickname revolving around a squawking farm animal _was _pretty embarrassing. But chickens were adorable, and Kami was _definitely _adorable, and that was all the reason Spirit needed to give her that nickname.

"Sorry, but it's stuck to you. And if you really want, I won't call you it around anyone else."

"If you _have _to call me that, then fine. But only between us. Deal?"

"Deal."

* * *

Marie stared at herself in front of hers and Kami's vanity in their dorm. She looked okay, the blonde reasoned with herself, but maybe she should add another layer of mascara. Deciding that that was the problem, Marie pulled out the tube of makeup and applied the black liquid. That was better, right? Marie smiled unconvincingly and, frustrated with herself, buried her head in her arms. This was impossible, she reasoned with herself. Franken could care less; he probably didn't even notice that Marie was even _wearing _make-up.

But it was worth a try. He really was attractive, even if he didn't know it. Stein had this very intelligent, very mysterious look about him that drew Marie in. And, yes, she was boy-crazy, but this was different. Normally, when Marie became attracted to a guy, he'd notice, and they'd be "official" in about a week. She really was quite pretty, everyone said.

The thing about Stein - he didn't even _notice _Marie. He probably thought she was some annoying blonde kid that only existed to steal his books. And honestly, that's all that she had allowed herself to be at this time. Sure, she had put herself out there, but he hadn't really noticed at all. She had even tried wearing eyeliner, which she hated (mostly because she always managed to stab herself in the eye with it), and he hadn't even _cared_. Spirit, of course, complimented the look, saying that it made her eyes look bigger and cuter. Like she needed to look _cuter_. Marie wanted to be pretty, or even _sexy_. Definitely not cute.

In a way, Marie was pretty envious. The girl didn't even wear make-up, and when she did, it ended up being disastrous. But Kami could care less about physical appearances. If a boy was going to like her, the beige-blonde reasoned, then it would be because of her personality and not because of vain appearances. It was a good notion, sure, but Marie's personality tended to...scare off male suitors. It was definitely a strong personality, sure, but it wasn't anything frightening.

Even so, Kami had said that both she and Marie were too young to even start thinking about relationships. That was easy for her to say. Kami was a talented Meister, and she was funny when she wasn't trying to be. Marie was a Hammer. What sensible Meister would want to work with a Hammer? There was absolutely no versatility, and Marie honestly couldn't blame anyone for trying to run from the partnership.

Still, she did want a Meister. And as it stood, she and Kami usually teamed up. But they hadn't gone on any real missions, mostly because neither of them worked well with the other yet. And it wasn't that they disliked the other; they just hadn't managed to resonate with each other yet.

But hope springs eternal. If Spirit and Stein, who never did anything _but _argue could form a strong and nearly unconquerable team, then certainly two intelligent and cordial girls would figure it out sooner or later. But no matter how much Marie thought about the matter, and no matter how hopeful she was, she and Kami only managed to ever knock each other back with their attempts. If anything, they were only going to be a detriment to the other's health.

Kami blamed herself for the failure. She said that it was a Meister's responsibility to make the partnership work, but Marie argued that fact. How hard could it be to resonate with a _hammer_? It was obviously a fault on Marie's part. Either way, this team was doomed for failure.

Checking her appearance one final time, Marie got up and grabbed her schoolbag. She walked outside, fully intent on going to the library. That was, of course, until her female hormones decided to pick up on whatever wonderful pheromone Franken Stein gave off. The silver-haired boy was sitting on a park bench, reading a worn-out copy of some anatomy book. He didn't seem to notice her, but when she attempted to catch him by surprise, he turned to face her. "Can I help you with something?" he asked dryly, green eyes dull and unimpressed.

Marie sputtered out an incoherent answer before she replied with a weak, "I was trying to surprise you."

"I caught that. You failed, by the way."

"I noticed. But, um, I was going to go to the library, and then I saw you. That's neither here nor there. Stein, do you think you could help me with something? If not, that's okay. But if you really feel like helping me, then that'd be great!"

"Go on."

Clearing her throat, Marie continued, "Would you help me learn how to resonate?"

Curiosity caught Stein's attention. "Are you sure? It'll be difficult, perhaps even impossible. You'll want to give up, you may even end up in the infirmary. Are you sure you wish to continue?"

The golden-eyed girl nodded vigorously. "I'm going to stick this out until the end. You don't understand - the odds are stacked against me. I'm a Hammer, for crying out loud. But I know that I can work hard enough, and I won't let Kami down. So I'm going to keep trying, even if you give up. Even if it takes sleepless nights full of tears and torture. I promise you, Franken Stein!" Marie pumped her fist in the air in determination, smiling as Stein put his head in his hand in exasperation.

"I didn't need a monologue. But I am intrigued. Prepare yourself."

#SpiritAlbarn

"Chickens, chickens, I love chickens!" Spirit sang as he washed himself off in the shower. There was a stupid grin on his face as he shampooed his hair. He didn't even that he got some suds in his hair. He just wiped them out of his teal eyes and kept singing.

It was perfectly official - Spirit Albarn was determined to make this blonde his. She made him feel differently than any other girl had before. He didn't care how long it took (preferably soon); they'd be a couple eventually. Even if it killed him.

**A.N.: So sorry for the wait! And I know that the chapter isn't even that long, but at least we now know that Spirit and Kami are at least friends. And now Stein and Marie are going to have extra time to talk to each other! Hope you guys enjoyed, and reviews are appreciated!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater, obviously. If I did, I would've made an entire arc dedicated to Spirit and Kami meeting each other. And then we'd go back to present-day where she came back to visit Maka. And Spirit and his Chicken fell in love all over again...just a theory...**


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